Firebird

The two ton machine had no wings, but still it flew free like any other bird. Johnny gunned the gas and the dark blue 1968 Pontiac Firebird soared across the highway.

He looked in the rear view mirror, through the cloud of dust and dirt, at his approaching pursuer. He didn’t care what he’d done, because even thought it had been wrong, it had felt just right.

“JT, this is Deputy Dirk. You hear me, boy?” Dirk called over the CB. Dirk’s police car raced up and bumped the Firebird’s bumper with and angry nudge.

“JT, stop the car!” Dirk barked. His stone face behind mirrored sunglasses cracked a slow smirk. Johnny answered with a nod, feeling an inescapable snow storm in his feet.

Johnny revved the engine and shot away. The Firebird swerved back and forth, fast and furious. Johnny clamped the steering and jerked the wheel.

The two cars collided like steel sabers; bashing and banging; fender to fender, sparks flying. The police car swiftly conquered the Firebird, forcing Johnny to slow down.

“Give it up, Johnny!” Dirk snarled, pulling away and recoiling for another attack. Johnny ground his teeth and felt his fillings touch and tingle. He gave Dirk the finger.

“I’m taking you out, son of a bitch!” Dirk attacked.

Sparks flew as metal screeched on metal, but Johnny maintained control. He knew nothing short of a tank could destroy his iron bird. He’d built it himself from an old rusted carcass by reading magazines in his spare time at Wilson’s Auto Shop.

Everything was perfect on it: its spiked chrome wheels, its shiny dark-blue coat, and its big block engine.

Johnny had spent months studying racing techniques, not to mention the lethal nitrous-oxide.

Johnny felt the police car give a little.

This allowed him to maneuver furtively. He aligned his wheels with those of the police car.

“Pay back’s a bitch!” Johnny said, making a throat-cutting gesture at Dirk.

Two blasts boomed, as the Firebird’s spiked rims shredded the tires of the police car.

The police car fishtailed off the highway, drove into a ditch, and disappeared in a cloud of desert dust.

There was radio silence for some minutes. The hum of the engine soothed Johnny’s ears. He saw the rolling waves of silver water flash before him.

The waves disappeared as fast as they appeared, the closer he got. They were what his people called, ‘Gifts of the Sun’. Johnny knew a mirage was unattainable, just like a dream.

“You, all right, Dirk,” asked a gruff voice over the CB.

“I’m all right, Sheriff,” Dirk said, coughing.

“JT, this is Sheriff Tucker. You hear me, boy?”

Johnny looked in the rear view mirror and saw three police cars approaching.

“JT, I know you can hear me, so listen good. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you cross the state line. No way! So just stop your none sense.”

The police cars raced towards the speeding Firebird and within minutes, the Sheriff was behind Johnny with his deputies Flick and Thacker.

“This ain’t like you, JT,” Sheriff Tucker said.

“Maybe he’s been drinking that witch water again, Sheriff,” Deputy Flick said.

“Shut your mouth, Flick!” Sheriff Tucker said.

Deputy Thacker laughed over the radio and added, “Hey, Flick, Sheriff cooked your goose. I bet even JT’s laughing at you.”

“I’ll shoot the stump! He knows I owe him,” Flick said.

Johnny smiled.

“Stump,” is what Flick had called Johnny in high school. He’d hated it then, but it didn’t bother him now. Now it brought a smile to his face.

Flick had bragged about going into the ARMY after graduating, but his career ended before it ever started. Some say it was football; others say it was Johnny.

They were both on the football team. Flick was captain. It was the last game of the season and it was a simple play.

“Johnny, I want you to catch and run. You got the speed and we can score,” the coach said.

“I’m team captain! I should receive, coach!” said Flick.

“It doesn’t matter what you think, I’m telling you the way it is. Johnny’s catching!”

Flick walked past Johnny and hit his shoulder.

“You watch yourself out there, stump.”

The play started and Johnny ran long. Flick followed. Johnny eyed the ball as it spiraled through the air.

Flick eyed Johnny.

Johnny turned and jumped. The crowd cheered his name. Flick stopped in front of him.

Johnny caught the ball and crash landed on top of Flick. His cleats gashed Flick’s leg and busted his knee cap. Johnny got up and ran. He scored while Flick laid on the ground screaming.

The game had been won, but the team and many fans were not thrilled. Many thought Johnny could have avoided landing of Flick.

“You didn’t have to get even with him, Johnny,” some of the team said.

At first Johnny had felt bad about the accident, but as he saw things now, people deserved what they asked for.

***

“Johnny, you still there?” said Sheriff Tucker. “C’mon, talk to me, son.”

“You want me to shoot him, Sheriff?” said Flick.

“No, Flick, God damn it! You stay put,” said Sheriff Tucker.

“Let’s shake him up a little, Sheriff,” Thacker said. “That’s all he needs is a little shaking up.”

“You let me handle this, Deputy. You hear?” said Sheriff Tucker.

Johnny maintained radio silence as the police cars boxed him in.

He peered into Sheriffs car behind him and saw two shadowy figures. He knew the corpulent one was the sheriff, but the one sitting in the back seat he couldn’t make out.

The road began to incline. Johnny reached the crest of the hill and spotted an awaiting road block a few miles ahead.

“They’re going to skin you alive, stump,” Flick said.

“Don’t pay him any attention, son,” Sheriff Tucker said. “You are in a mess of trouble, but I can’t help you if you don’t let me.” Sheriff Tucker always called Johnny, son, in a way that was reminiscent of his father.

Johnny flipped a switch and the lights on dash board went into a momentary surge of frenzy. A blinking light came on over a button marked, “OXIDE.”

He fingered the red button feeling his heart pound with excitement. He knew the dangers of nitrous-oxide. He knew his car could explode. He knew that one faulty connection with the gas tanks and all would be disastrous. But he’d been careful and his need for speed out weighed all dangers.

“Johnny?” called a voice soaked with fear.

Johnny’s rush disintegrated. He looked in his rear view mirror at the shadowy figure in the back seat of the sheriffs car.

Johnny’s throat tightened. His chest became stiff. He took a deep breath and slowly exhaled, “Mary?”

“Johnny?” Mary said. “This isn’t the way to be. Please give up before it’s too late.”

Johnny could see the road block close now, clear as day. A dozen squad cars were lined up behind a wall of policemen guarding the Nevada State Line. If he was going to make his move, it would have to be soon in order to get up to speed.

“What about our dreams, Johnny?” said Mary.

“This is our chance,” Johnny said. “We talked about this. I did this for us. Now we can get out of here. The kingdom of heaven is just outside the state line, Mary. I’ll meet you there.”

“There are better ways. Honest ways.”

“Not around here.”

“Looks like Mary his accomplice, Sheriff,” said Flick. “We gonna arrest her, stump. Put her in jail because of you.”

“No, she’s not something you can cage up,” said Johnny.

“If you love her, Johnny, I suggest you give yourself up. I promise you there will be no trouble. I will handle this myself,” said Sheriff Tucker. “You can trust me. I’ve always liked you, son.”

The Firebird began to slow down.

“I knew you’d see it my way. Just drive till you get to the road block, JT,” said Sheriff Tucker.

A hell-fire burned in Johnny’s insides. He looked around at the ocean of sand that incarcerate the highway and everything else. He felt lost and suffocating.

“I’m sorry, Johnny,” Mary said over the CB. “I’ve never should have come. I thought I could help.”

“It’s okay, Mary. It’ll be okay.”

BANG!!! A shatter of glass splattered on the back of Johnny’ s head. He looked to his side and saw Deputy Flick shooting at him.

“What the hell’s going on, Sheriff?” Johnny said.

“Hold your fire, Flick. God damn it!” Sheriff Tucker barked.

Johnny scoped Mary in the rear view mirror. He could see her face now. Her expression was sad, her make-up blurred. So reminiscent of the first day they met.

***

Johnny had escaped from class to hide under the bleachers for a smoke. This was his place of refuge. As he lit up he heard a whimper. His first fancy was of doves and pigeons, but at first sight it was Mary.

When their eyes met, they were speechless. All they could do was stare. Even crying she was pretty. Her long brown hair extended down her back like Johnny’s mother’s.

“I hide here, too,” Johnny said, slowly slipping down and sitting next to her. Her soft fragrance of sweet-spice captivated him as they observed their small abrasive town.

“Sometimes, I just feel so...”

“Trapped?” Mary whispered. “This town is a prison.”

Johnny looked at her and nodded. Nothing else was said that day, nothing needed to be. Johnny knew they were different and they were the same. He gently slipped his hand on hers and tickled her palm, promising never to let go.

***

Mary rubbed the inside of her hand. Her eyes fixed on the back of the neck of the man she called “Daddy.” It disgusted her the way the sweaty creases of fat resembled a package of hot-dogs. There was also an odor to him that she had never noticed. It was sour, dirty, shitty.

“Sheriff?” Deputy Thacker called, on a different channel.

“What is it?” said Sheriff Tucker.

“We still going ahead with the plan?” said Thacker.

“You tell them boys to shoot as soon as he’s close enough.”

Mary shivered as she listened. She felt like a prisoner sitting in the back seat of the police car. She pulled on her seat-belt to release some slack and leaned forward.

“You can’t! He’s already surrendered! You promised him,” Mary said, sticking her head over the front seat.

“You shut your mouth, Missy!” Sheriff Tucker said, slapping Mary with the back of his hand.

She flew back in her seat, feeling a pulsing burn on her cheek. The slack on the seat-belt recoiled tightly like a serpent.

She felt numb and found it hard to breath as she watched the Firebird in front of her approaching its doom.

“You boys stay back. I’ll take him the rest of the way,” Sheriff Tucker said.

Flick and Thacker backed off. Mary watched as they spun their cars around and blocked the road behind them.

Then a red glimmer on Tucker’s hand caught her attention. It was blood. She licked her upper lip and tasted blood. It was her blood. She took a few deep breathes and calmed her beating heart. She slowly reached down and unbuckled her seat-belt. She dug her nails into her palm and made a fist. She brought her trembling arm back slowly, while biting on her tongue for comfort. Then with all her might, she swung.

“FILTHY PIG!” Mary said, punching the back of her father’s head, making him lose control of the car.

As Sheriff Tucker struggled with the car, Mary reached over the front seat and grabbed the CB. She changed the channel and began calling out.

“Johnny! Johnny! It’s a trap. They’re going to shoot you!”

Johnny looked back and saw Mary and the Sheriff fighting. He was positive that Mary had her seat belt on. She never rode in a car with out one.

Johnny slammed his brakes and the police car rear-ended him hard. The crash bashed Tucker’s head against the steering wheel. Mary flew over the front seat and fell to the floor. The police car zigzagged off the highway. Johnny pursued closely.

“Mary, take control!” Johnny called.

Mary crawled up from the floor. She grabbed the steering wheel. She pulled Tucker’s head back and drove.

She struggled with the runaway car as if it had a mind of its own. She straightened out on the highway then slowed the car down to a squeaking stop. The Firebird parked close by.

“I’m okay, Johnny,” Mary said. She paused for moment to think. She looked at her groggy unconscious father who’s face was covered in blood from a gash on his forehead.

She tried to pull away from him, but he grabbed her arm.

“Let me go!” Mary said.

“I love you, Mary,” Sheriff Tucker mumbled. “You can’t leave me. You’re all I got in this life, child. This town is a prison. You’re all I got to live for. We’re family.”

Mary cringed. The sheriff clung to her like a child and started crying. Mary remembered how he used to be her teddy-bear. He protected her. Made her safe. He wiped away her tears and tended her wounds. It had always been just the two of them. Her mother had only had the chance to give her life, but her daddy had given her his heart. Mary teared.

“Mary?” Johnny called.

Mary met Johnny’s desperate eyes, calling her to freedom. She rubbed the inside of her hand thinking about his promise. He would love her till the end. She took the hand and wiped her father’s forehead.

“You go, Johnny.”

“Not without you!”

“Johnny you go and fly, before it’s too late ... before they kill you,” said Mary. “I’ll be alright. Some of us aren’t suppose to fly ... but you are. I’ll meet you on the other side.”

Johnny nodded. He looked out past the road block at the setting orange sun. The orb called to him like a torch out of the darkness. He just needed to get fast enough to get to it.

“I’ll come back for you, Mary,” said Johnny. She knew he would.

He punched the gas. His wheels smoked and squealed. Cool air rushed in as the speedometer jumped to 60.

The policemen guarding Johnny’s exit aimed their guns.

“JT, don’t you double cross me! I will...!” mumbled Sheriff Tucker. Crackling static drowned Tucker’s haunting voice as the Firebird reached speed.

Johnny hit the “OXIDE” button and the car shot off like a rocket. His face was pushed back.

The policemen opened fire. Their bullets sparked on the Firebird steel armor.

The Firebird busted through the police barricade like missile. Johnny found freedom. He couldn’t believe. Free at last.

Fire blasted from the Firebird’s underside. A shrilling scream rung out of the engine..

The Firebird began to tremble.

A cold chill extinguished Johnny’s anger as a wave of engine heat swarmed him like a horde of hornets.

He smelled a burning scent like licorice and spied the needle on the temperature gauge laying dead on red.

A hideous demon bird of fire erupted out of the trunk. Johnny freaked and jerked the steering wheel.

The Firebird went into a tail spin. Fire shot out from underneath Johnny’s seat.

He let out a scream as flames engulfed him. A roar echoed from within the car and was followed by an explosion resembling something like a nuclear blast.

A demon bird of fire and flame rose into the sky leaving a tail of black smoke.

The policemen watched mystified as the firebird screeched into the sky and disappeared like a phoenix.

It was a sight never seen. Burning dollar bills rained from the sky. It was a rain of fire; the Apocalypse.

Sheriff Tucker stepped out of his car, shaking his wounded head.

Mary watched from the front seat of the police car with a faint grin and tears in her eyes.

“Fly, Johnny ... fly.”